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LIZZIE     CROSS     PECKHAM 


POEMS 


BY 


LIZZIE    CROSS   PECKHAM 


Los   Angeles,  California 
1905 


OUT       WEST        COMPANY 
PRINTERS 

Los    ANGELES,  CAL. 


POEMS 


BY 


LIZZIE  CROSS  PECKHAM 


To   my  children,    this    book 
is    affectionately    dedicated. 

LIZZIE  CROSS  PECKHAM. 


California 

I   IKE  a  Queen  in  her  might,  how  proudly  she 
J—        stands— 

The  fairest  of  daughters  in  Columbia's  land; 
Adorned  with  the  richest  of  jewels  so  rare, 
And  pearls  of  great  price  are  twined  in  her  hair. 
She  has  landscape  whose  beauty  can  ne'er  be  told, 
And  veins  that  are  filled  with  the  purest  of  gold ; 
She  is  fanned  by  the  breeze  of  the  ocean  divine, 
And  kissed  by  the  breath  of  the  cedar  and  pine. 
She  drinks  at  the  fountain  of  eternal  youth, 
And  laves  in  the  waters  of  wisdom  and  truth ; 
The  oil  of  pure  gladness  she  pours  on  the  world, 
For  her  banner  of  love  she  keeps  it  unfurled. 
Her  grand  natural  sights  are  so  wondrously  fair, 
'  'It  seems  that  the  glory  of  God's  resting  there !" 

9 


Her  great   mountains   and   valleys   and   green 

meadow  land 
Are  freighted  with  treasure  as  the  seashore  has 

sand. 
She  has  enriched  the  world  with  her  precious 

store, 
But  like  the  loaves  and  fishes  there  are  plenty 

more; 

Her  sceptre  she  wields  like  a  fair  magic  wand, 
And  sweet  blossoms  of  hope  spring  over  the  land. 
And  Flora  pays  tribute  with  her  fragrance  so 

sweet, 
She  lays  rich  gems  each  day  in  the  year  at  her 

feet ; 
"O,  her  blandishments  woo  with  her  skies  of 

soft  blue, 
And  bright  flower-gemmed  carpet   of  emerald 

hue. 

This  peerless  creature  the  sun  holds  in  caress, 
While  she  spreads  out  her  arms  her  subjects  to 

bless ; 

10 


In  beauty  and  grandeur  she  sits  here  in  state, 
And  joyfully  looks  through  the  great  Golden 

Gate."  ' 

*        *        *        * 

"Beautiful  Westland  so  picturesquely  grand, 
With  lovely  adorning  from  the  Father's  right 

hand: 

O,  can  there  be  in  store  any  Paradise  more 
Than  we  have  right  here  on  this  far  Western 

shore? 
Then  sweet  Flora  bear  aloft  your  incense  to  the 

sky, 
WTe  will  twine  garlands  of  roses  for  heaven  is 

nigh!" 


11 


The  Battle  of  the  Roses 

7J  DELEGATION  of  flowers  met  in  conven- 
"         tion- 

To  elect  a  fair  queen  it  was  their  intention— 
In  the  shade  of  the  trees,  a  sweet  haven  of  rest, 
Where  soft  zephyrs  the  cheeks  of  the  flowers 

caressed, 

At  the  earliest  dawn  with  their  jewels  yet  on, 
While  birds  of  the  wildwood  were  awakening  to 

song. 

• 

There  were  many  aspired  this  great  honor  to  win, 
And  their  gayest  attire  they  were  all  arrayed  in. 
A  gallant  Larkspur  rang  out  a  pretty  Bluebell 
The  right  time  to  come,  Flora's  kingdom  to  tell. 
Tall  Hollyhocks  hurried  on  to  get  a  front  seat, 
Dressed  in  bright  flaming  colors,  thus  hoping  to 
beat. 

12 


Old  Bach 'lor  Button  was  sitting  by  Marigold ; 
Miss  Columbine  and  Sweet  Briar  thought  they 

were  bold. 

There  Mr.  Sunflower  sat  by  fair  Marguerite, 
\Yith  some  demure  little  daisies,  prim  and  so  neat. 
Perriwinkle  said:  "Look,  there  is  old  Dandelion, 
Whispering  his  nonsense  to  the  Misses  Wood 
bine." 

Now,  all  dressed  in  white,  came  the  Misses  Lily, 
so  pure ; 

Gladiola  spoke  up,  "They  will  get  the  vote, 
sure." 

The  Misses  Iris  were  there,  with  Chrysanthe 
mum, 

And  Johnny  Jump-ups  came  with  the  Miss  Red 
Geranium . 

The  Misses  Thistledown  now  kept  up  such  a 

flutter, 
That  Snowballs  and  Crocuses  began  to  mutter : 

13 


"Just  look  at  the  Snapdragons  with  all  their 

hoods  on 

Sitting  beside  the  stately  Lady  Washington ; 
And  see,  there  is  Mr.  Cactus  and  some  Old  Man, 
For  Fuchsias  are  trying  to  get  votes  if  they  can." 

Now,  old  Cactus  leaned  over,  his  thistles  stuck  in 
The  shoulder  of  the  right  charming  Miss  Jessa 
mine; 
The  Tulips,  they  tittered,  and  Miss  Hyacinth 

laughed  out ; 
The   Chairman,  Camelia,  hammered  his   gavel 

about. 

Then  a  dear  little  Daisy  arose  to  explain, 
And  a  great  Dahlia  shouted  the  nominee's  name. 

A  star-eyed  purple  Pansy  said :  "I  nominate 
The  California  Poppy,  the  flower  of  State." 
Then   sweet    Miss   Lilac,    smiling,    named    fair 

Heliotrope, 
And   China  Aster   sang   out,    "Carnations,    we 

hope." 

14 


The  Miss  Jonquil,  Miss  Mignonette  and  Fever 

Few 
Said  that  they    and    Miss  Phlox  thought  Miss 

Poppy  would  do. 
Sweet   Violets     and    Buttercups     said,     "Our 

vote  goes 
With  the  Forget-me-nots  for  the  beautiful  Rose." 

Then  Sweet  William  as  one  of  the  tellers  was 

named ; 

Mr.  Oleander,  as  the  other,  proclaimed. 
Now,    the   flowers   worked   hard,    but   Violet's 

perfume 
And  Buttercup's  shining  ways  won  all  in  the 

room. 

Then  the  ballots  were  counted  and  it  was  found 
That  the  beautiful  Rose  had  won  the  bright 

crown, 

And  that  she  by  her  sweetness  was  worthy  to  be 
( 'rowned  by  all  Flora's  kingdom  as  her  majesty. 

15 


Now,  Morning  Glories  and  the  Ferns  began  danc 
ing 

With  the  Four  O' Clocks,  to  sweet  music  en 
trancing  ; 

Then  they  all  joined  hands  and  their  sweet  fra 
grance  they  blent, 

And  so  a-whirling  around  the  throne  they  all 
went. 

The  fair  Roses  in  love  then  threw  their  sweet 
petals, 

Which  smilingly  fell  as  pure  snow  in  a  battle. 

They  rollicked  and  frolicked  in  joyous  con 
fusion,  . 

The  Queen  waved  her  scepter  and  said,  in  con 
clusion  : 

"Now,  my  dear  loyal  subjects,  will  you,  one  and 
all, 

If  1  issue  a  summons  respond  to  my  call, 

And  one  day  of  each  year,  in  the  springtime,  will 
meet 

16 


And  give  of  your  beauty  and  sweet  fragrance  a 
fete?" 

"Our  Most  Gracious  Sovereign,  your  good  pleas 
ure  is  ours, 

And  long,  long  may  you  reign!"  thus  said  those 
sweet  flowers. 

"In  the  land  of  the  olive,  the  fig  and  the  vine, 

We  will  come  at  your  bidding  and  kneel  at  your 
shrine." 

Then  they  all  sang  in  chorus— the  air  was  sub 
lime— 

" Where  the  forces  of  Nature  all  beaut v  combine, 

*/  7 

The  City  of  Angels,  where  the  people  are  blest, 
The  sun  kisses  the  earth  and  holds  her  in  caress, 
Where  the  orange  trees  bloom,  and  the  birds 

ever  sing 
Their  glad  notes  of  welcome,  our  tributes  we'll 

bring." 

LOS  Antreles. 

17 


Flora's  Tribute 

XV /HAT  means  this  great  commotion  ?       All 
**          nature  seems  a- whirr— 
The  air  with  perfume  laden,  creation  all  astir ! 
It's  Flora's  kingdom  coming,  her  tributes  now 

to  pay 
In  choicest  floral  offerings  the  Queen  of  lovely 

May. 
Flower   trumpets    are    a-blowing,    Canterbury 

bells  now  ring 

Out  the  glad  tidings,  and  the  mistletoe  it  swings 
On  the  trees  as' they  are  bowing  and  swaying  to 

the  breeze, 
Which  whispers  in  its  gladness,  "O  joyful  sounds 

are  these!" 
The  Mr.  Palms,  too,  are  waving,  their  happiness 

to  tell; 
And  I  hear  a  ding-a-ling — it  is  the  wild  bluebell. 

18 


The  grasses  green  and  rushes  are  laughing  in 

their  glee, 
And  the  clover  blooms  are  tossing  in  sweetest 

ecstacy. 

It's  at  the  early  dawning;  I  hear  a  bugle  call 
From  the  herald,  Sir  Monk's  Hood,  to  flowers 

one  and  all, 
To  waken  from  their  slumbers  and  keep  their 

jewels  on. 

The  Larkspur  Knights  will  help  them  the  pro 
cession  now  to  form. 
They  are  coming  from  the  wild  woods,  from 

o'er  dale  and  hills- 
Cowslips  and  for-get-me-nots,   and  ferns  from 

shady  rills. 
The  pond  lilies  I  see  sailing  down  the  rippling 

stream, 
With  their  floral  offerings  they  look  like  a  poet's 

dream. 
Now   dandelions   and   daisies   from  the  green 

meadows  come, 

19 


And  chariots  of  gold  from  the  mustard  blooms 

are  spun. 
Fresh   from   their   dewy   beds   come   the   Miss 

Sweet  Violets, 

And  star-eyed  purple  pansies  and  pretty  migno 
nettes. 
Now,  nodding   in   great   splendor,  are   the   Mr. 

Pampas  Plumes, 
And  carnations  in  their  beauty  waft  spicy  sweet 

perfumes, 
And  joining  in  the  frolic  toss  the  locust  free  and 

bold, 
And  riding  in  great  splendor  comes  the  rich 

Miss  Marigold.  . 

Of  swords  I  see  a  flashing — they  look  just  like 

green  blades— 
'Tis  fleur-de-lis,  with  flags  flying,  keeping  in  line 

the  parade. 

Exquisite  are  the  roses,  so  gorgeously  arrayed, 
They're  Queen  of  all  the  flowers  in  this  gay 

cavalcade. 

20 


Round  them  lovingly  are  twining  cypress  and 

smilax, 
And  in  royal  robes  of  purple  come  the  fragrant 

Miss  Lilacs. 

Like  a  blaze  of  glory,  as  their  petals  now  unfold, 
Are  California  poppies  as  floats  of  purest  gold. 
Now  come  the  Miss  Geraniums,  in  raiment  all  so 

bright, 

And  pure  and  saint-like  callas,  in  dress  of  spot 
less  white. 
Now  blow,  ye  bugles,  blow!    Ring  out,  ye  joy 

bells,  ring! 
The  Floras  they  are  coming  their  tributes  now  to 

bring, 

The  rose  in  Eden's  garden  on  this  great  festal  day, 
The   fairest,   sweetest  blossoms  to   crown   her 

Queen  of  May. 

To  Sacramento's  "  May  Queen."  19—. 


21 


Violets 


FLOWER  divine,  sweet  violets, 

As  I  pluck  you  from  your  dewy  beds, 
The  dew,  like  sparkling  diamonds,  sets 
A  crown  of  glory  around  your  heads. 

O,  lovely  flower,  you  charm  me  so ! 
You  are  so  modest,  and  yet  so  fair ! 
Please  tell  me  your  source,  that  I  may  go 
And  find  such  beauty  as  you  now  wear. 

Like  the  tinkling  of  a  silver  bell, 
I  now  hear  a  voice  which  thus  replies : 
"To  you  the  secret  I  now  will  tell; 
We  are  but  God's  love  in  sweet  disguise. 

22 


From  the  garden  of  immortal  bloom, 
He  sends  us  as  bright,  winning  wiles ; 
He  breathes,  and  lo,  there  is  sweet  perfume, 
For  all  blossoms  are  His  loving  smiles. 

O,  child  of  earth,  do  but  look  around ! 
Through  nature's  works  He  speaks  to  you. 
In  every  leaf  and  flower  is  found 
An  object  lesson,  profound  and  true. 

On  the  mountains  grand,  or  in  leafy  glade, 
In  the  babbling  brook,  or  the  ocean  roar ; 
In  meadow  lands,  or  the  forest  shade, 
Or  the  eagle  which  does  proudly  soar. 

Then,  but  look  again,  and  you  will  find 
That  flowers  bloom  but  for  mankind ; 
And  the  birds  that  sing  on  yonder  tree, 
Pour  forth  their  song  for  you  and  me. 

23 


And  the  zephyrs  which  now  fan  your  cheek, 
"W  af ting  sweet  odors,  so  softly  speak : 
' l  Say,  Handmaiden  of  the  Lord,  awake ! 
Beautiful  garments  with  love  now  make ! 
They  will  rest  as  light  as  pure  swansdown ; 
And  pearls  you  may  have  to  deck  your  crown. 

"  The  beauty  of  which  you  so  desire 
You  may  attain  by  rising  higher 
In  bright  realms  of  thought,  which  are  divine- 
Mankind  you  will  help  then  to  refine. 

"  Rich  gems  now  in  your  pathway  lie, 
The  luster  of  which  can  never  die ; 
And  the  radiant  sun  for  you  will  shine 
And  light  your  way  to  the  heavenly  mine." 

Now,  the  musical  chimes  of  silvery  bells, 
Like  a  choir  of  angels,  through  space  now  swells 
And  I  stand  entranced,  when  over  me  roll 
Great  floods  of  sunshine  which  bathe  my  soul. 

24 


While  the  fragrance  of  those  violets  fair, 
Like  heavenly  incense,  fills  the  air, 
I  breathe  a  prayer  on  the  whispering  breeze 
That  my  heart  may  be  filled  with  love  like  these. 


25 


Tahoe 

MIGHTY  lake!  O  mystic  sea!  so  peacefully 

you  rest, 
As  sweetly  as  a  new-born  babe  upon  its  mother's 

breast. 
Six  thousand  feet^above  the  sea  in  blissful  calm 

repose, 
Fairer  than  the  lily  pure,  or  heart  of  sweetest 

rose. 
Cradled  'midst  the  odorous  firs  where  gentle 

zephyrs  softly  stir  . 

The  grand  old  pines,  who  in  their  might  point 

heavenward  in  their  flight. 

No  artist  can  your  beauty  paint,  no  poet  that  can 

tell 
The  wonders  of  that  lovely  scene  beneath  your 

crystal  dell. 

26 


Great  granite  walls  like  sentinels  bold  athwart 

your  waters  stand, 
As  ancient  battlements  of  old,   and  towering 

mountains  grand. 
And  wondrous  mystery,  sea  of  glass !  they  say 

that  it  is  true 
That  your  depths  no  one  can  fathom  of  purest 

azure  blue. 

And  speckled  trout  in  sportive  play  in  beauty 

there  are  seen, 
Glinting  along  the  livelong  day  in  water  emerald 

green. 
As  fleecy  clouds  go  sailing  by  like  snowy  palaces 

on  high, 
They're  mirrored  in  your  lovely  face  as  perfect 

images  of  grace. 
And  all  the  rainbow's  brilliant  hues  you  sweetly 

do  disclose, 
From  the  brightest  royal  purple  to  the  pinkest 

of  the  rose. 

27 


As  the  sun  in  all  its  splendor  sinks  behind  the 

western  hills 
It  leaves  its  radiance  on  your  face— our  heart 

with  rapture  thrills. 
As  shifting  lights  and  shadows  fall,  new  beauty 

then  unfurls, 
Sapphire,  mingling  with  the  blue,  it's  a  sea  of 

glimmering  pearls.    • 

And  on  your  waters  now  I  glide,  as  on  a  summer 
sea, 

I  trust  my  Father  thus  to  guide  me  to  immor 
tality. 

He  holds  these  waters  in  His  hand,  Jehovah  is 
His  name, 

A  symbol  of  the  Promised  Land,  His  goodness 
now  proclaim. 


28 


Bright  Jewels 

I T  matters  not  how  long  we  stay, 

Here  in  this  house  of  earthly  clay, 
If  we  but  live  along  the  line 
Of  pure  and  holy  thought  divine. 

It  matters  much  how  here  we  live, 
Each  act,  each  word,  and  thought  we  give 
Will  be  written  in  the  book  on  high, 
And  we  will  read  it  by  and  by. 

It  matters  not  if  we  have  fame, 
Or  worldly  riches  we  can  claim ; 
Or  rear  our  palaces  so  high, 
The  spires  seem  to  touch  the  sky. 
We  know  inevitably  they  must 
Crumble  in  time  and  go  to  dust. 

29 


Then  let's  build  a  mansion  with  our  might, 
Based  on  mercy,  justice,  truth  and  right ; 
Adorned  with  pearls  we  know  are  pure, 
Then  the  foundation  will  be  sure. 
Bright  gems  of  faith,  hope,  love  and  cheer, 
And  all  the  graces  we  hold  dear. 

Then  in  our  hearts  will  be  a  song, 
Our  neighbor  we  could  never  wrong, 
Or  try  to  drive  him  to  the  wall, 
By  tricks  of  trade  however  small. 
We  will  not  strive  for  needless  gain 
When  we  live  on  that  heavenly  plane. 

For  we  would  knock  and  go  within, 
Where  kings  would  gladly  enter  in ; 
The  atmosphere  so  pure  and  calm, 
And  laden  with  such  precious  balm- 
Each  one  would  be  to  each  other 
As  brother  should  be  to  a  brother. 


30 


Falling  Leaves 

~"FHE  leaves  are  falling  one  by  one, 

As  though  their  life  work  here  was  done ; 
They  came  to  us  a  gladsome  thing, 
A  harbinger  of  early  spring. 

Each  one  with  joy,  it  was  untwirled, 
A  messenger  of  love  unfurled 
To  weary  man  to  do  him  good, 
As  oft  he  sought  the  sweet  wild  wood. 

On  mountains  grand,  or  e'en  a  lane, 
Perchance  an  oak  on  some  drear  plane, 
Beside  a  brook,  or  in  a  glen, 
Or  near  the  busy  haunts  of  men. 

31 


In  living  beauty  they  abide, 
The  heart  of  man  so  satisfied 
To  rest  beneath  their  lovely  shade, 
In  forest  dense,  or  leafy  glade. 

But  autumn  with  its  mellow  light, 
Has  painted  up  their  garments  bright 
As  satin  damask,  velveteen, 
Or  golden  shades  of  silken  sheen ; 

Borrowing  from  a  sky  of  blues, 
Tints  to  mix  with  scarlet  hues. 
With  such  varied  shapes  and  colors  pure, 
No  man  could  fashion  them,  I'm  sure! 

And  now  the  spirits  of  the  air, 
Frolic  among  the  leaves  so  fair ; 
While  shaking  them  from  parent  stem, 
Methinks  they  whisper  love  to  them. 

32 


And  so  they're  softly  falling  down, 
Seer  and  yellow  shades  of  brown. 
The  evergreens  look  on  and  smile, 
To  see  them  tumble  down  the  while. 

But  not  one  of  them  will  e'er  be  lost, 
As  in  the  infinite  lap  they  're  tost 
And  folded  to  their  mother's  breast. 
Confidingly  they  sink  to  rest, 
And  in  new  forms  of  loveliness, 
They'll  come  again  our  souls  to  bless! 


33 


King  of  Kings 


"  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd  ;  I  shall  not  want." 

—Psalm  23:  1. 

|J)ING  out,  sweet  chimes,  at  Christmas  tide ; 

"^     Ring  jo}rfully,  joyfully  ring ! 

Ring  praises  to  the  crucified 

One  and  crown  Him  the  Lord,  your  King ! 

The  One  who  died  mankind  to  bless 

And  lift  a  world  to  righteousness. 

This  Lord  of  glory  was  forsworn ; 
A  crown  of  thorns  by  Him  was  worn. 
The  rabble  on  Him  fiercely  swore, 
As  for  the  world  the  cross  He  bore. 

But  Rose  of  Sharon,  sweetest  bloom, 
Thou  burst  asunder  from  Thy  tomb, 
And  joy  peals  forth  from  each  glad  bell, 
The  tidings  far  and  near  to  tell ! 

34 


O,  Lamb  of  God,  so  cru'lly  slain, 
And  by  the  Judas  so  betrayed, 
Come  in  our  hearts  and  ever  reign, 
For  on  love's  altar  we  are  laid. 

"Ye  are  the  branches,  I  the  vine/' 
In  accents  sweet  these  words  He  said. 
"I  am  the  Christ,  the  One  divine ; 
I  am  the  true  and  living  bread. 
The  water  of  life  to  all  I  give ; 
Then  drink  and  thus  forever  live!" 

Good  shepherd  guard  then  well  Thy  sheep, 
Thou  art  the  everlasting  way; 
The  door  of  life,  then  vigil  keep, 
Nor  let  one  lamb  e'er  get  astray. 

O,  Master,  Lord ;  O,  Prince  of  Peace, 
Spirit  of  Truth,  be  ever  near ; 
Let  gladness  reign,  and  sorrow  cease, 
Throughout  the  coming  glad  New  Year. 

35 


Prince  of  the  House  of  David  true, 
O,  lily  of  the  valley  fair, 
The  pearly  gates  we  would  get  through, 
Then  help  us  to  our  hearts  prepare. 

Thou'rt  a  pearl  of  great  price  we  know, 
And  taught  us  happiness  to  find ; 
With  kindest  thoughts  and  hearts  aglow, 
To  give  our  love  to  all  mankind. 

O,  Rose  of  Sharon,  sweetest  bloom, 
Angels  guarded  well  thy  tomb ! 
Thou'rt  Alpha,  and  Omega,  ah 
The  world  cries  out  in  loud  huzza; 
Jesus  the  Christ,  with  one  acclaim, 
Sweet  anthems  sound  thy  princely  name. 
With  hosannas  loud,  the  earth  now  rings, 
O  Lord  of  Hosts  and  King  of  Kings ! 


36 


Angelinc 


"THROUGH  her  spicy  orange  groves, 

And  avenues  of  palms  she  roves, 
As  royally  her  robes  she  trails, 

There's  not  a  living  atom  fails 
Along  through  nature's  grand  highway, 

To  her  the  greatest  homage  pay ! 
Her  banners  wave  from  vernal  trees, 

Swayed  by  the  gentle  ocean  breeze ; 
And  songsters  carol  sweetest  notes, 

From  out  a  million  happy  throats. 
From  her  fields  of  radiant  bloom, 

Her  breath  comes  laden  with  perfume; 
With  rosy  light  her  face  is  flushed, 

And  for  a  moment  my  song  is  hushed  - 
My  very  pulses  being  stirred 

By  wordless  praise  from  nature  heard! 

Los  Angeles. 

37 


Santa  Clara  Valley 

I^YURE  as  a  lily,  there  is  none  fairer 

Than  this  peerless  one  we  call  Santa  Clara. 
As  I  ramble  around  and  her  beauty  discover, 
I  am  lost  in  a  maze,  as  a  passionate  lover, 
With  her  mountains  and  canyons  and  meander 
ing  streams— 
They  are  as  romantic  as  the  poet's  fond  dreams. 

Her  highways  suggestive  of  lover-like  lanes,   * 
With  their  delightful  shade,  where  sweet  com 
fort  reigns— 

Reposing  so  peacefully,  how  sweetly  she  smiles ! 
This  goddess  of  beauty  as  our  hearts  she  be 
guiles, 

For  wherever  we  go  there's  a  feast  for  the  eyes, 
A  bright  panorama,  a  gladsome  surprise. 

38 


And  the  soft  ocean  breeze,  as  it  whispers  sweet 

peace, 

Kisses  her  fondly  and  gives  of  life  a  new  lease. 
Oh,  she  is  charming  and  exquisitely  fair, 
With  lilies  and  roses  all  twined  in  her  hair ! 
In  this  garden  of  Eden  sweet  Flora  holds  sway, 
And  the  flowers  are  blooming  from  May  until 

May. 

At  the  touch  of  her  fingers,  and  lo !  it  is  found 
That  she  is  lovingly  and  gloriously  crowned 
With  a  bright  mantle  of  pure  living  bloom, 
Which  wafts,  as  it  were,  a  delicious  perfume, 
As  though  Paradise  had  come  down  here  below 
And  showered  its  pearls  as  pure  blossoms  of  snow. 

The  wand  of  a  fairy  she  charmingly  wields 
Over  her  green  meadows  and  beautiful  fields ; 
Sometimes  they're  undulating  like  billows  of 

gold, 
Then  an  emerald  carpet  before  us  unfold. 

39 


When  the  reapers  appear  and  the  sickle  is  used, 
At  the  scene  of  enchantment  we're  freshly  en 
thused, 

For  the  richest  of  robes  she  always  prepares, 
So  varied  the  tints  of  the  garment  she  wears. 

As  the  glow  of  her  sun  sets  behind  her  green  hills, 
With  its  light  and  shadows,  O  my  heart,  how  it 

thrills 

At  the  vision  of  beauty,  the  picture  of  grace, 
For  Jehovah  has  revealed  Himself  on  her  face ! 

And  here  she  sits  proudly  in  blissful  content, 
In  an  ideal  spot  in  this  fair  continent— 
A  jewel  of  promise,  a  pure  sparkling  gem ;       . 
In  this  great  western  world  a  bright  diadem ! 


40 


Eschscholtzia 

(Emblem  of  California) 

MISS  Poppy,  you  are  so  exceedingly  fair, 

A  queen  might  envy  you  the  raiment  you 

wear. 
Do  the  seraphs  come  down  from  their  blest 

abodes, 
And  bedeck  you  all  in  those  bright  shining  robes? 

How  happy  you  must  be  with  the  blue  arch  o'er 

head, 

And  an  emerald  carpet  on  which  you  may  tread. 
Tell  me,  can  you  understand  the  unspoken  word, 
The  whispers  of  love  by  which  the  leaves  are  all 

stirred? 

41 


As  the  rosy  light  fades  in  the  far  golden  west, 
You  fold  your  lovely  robes  and  prepare  for  your 

rest, 

Softly  rocked  by  the  breezes  so  gently  to  sleep, 
And  me  thinks  that  the  angels  o'er  you  vigil 

keep. 


Oh,  you  must  be  refreshed  by  the  dew  as  it  falls; 
Does  the  meadow-lark  awaken  you  when  she 

calls 

To  her  mate,  who  is  singing  in  yonder  oak  tree, 
In  the  fullness  of  his  joy,  so  happy  and  free? 


When  old  Sol  in  his  glory  is  high  in  the  skies, 
Then  you  laughingly  look  up  in  happy  surprise, 
And  spread  out  your  beautiful  bright  golden 

cups; 
Then  the  humming  bird  from  them  their  sweet 

nectar  sups. 

42 


Oh,  you  must  be  in  love  with  these  sweet  country 

sounds 
With  which  the  woods  and  meadows  so  richly 

abound. 
The  frolicsome  squirrels  hide  their  nuts  in  the 

trees, 

And  merrily  chatter  mid  the  droning  of  bees. 
T hernodest  wood- violet  smiles  out  from  its  bed 
At  the  robins  that  twitter  in  the  boughs  o'er 

head. 

With  living  goblets  of  gold  the  fields  are  ablaze, 
As  you  rollick  through  them  with  your  light 

sunny  ways. 

And  in  a  thousand  tones  of  sweet  wordless  praise 
Nature  speaks  out  her  joys  through  the  bright 

golden  days. 


43 


The  Snow  Flower 

$  top  of  the  grand  Sierra  steeps, 

The  rippling  brooklet  softly  creeps ; 
And  caressingly  the  mosses  twine 
Around  the  cedars,  firs  and  pine. 
All  is  perfumed  by  balsams  rare, 
A  holy  calm  is  in  the  air. 

My  song  is  stilled — a  gentle  hush 
Pervades  all  nature.      In  the  underbrush  . 
Are  fallen  trees  so  brown  and  bare 
As  though  for  ages  lying  there. 

And  in  a  hollow  log  I  look— 
I  see  hidden  in  that  quiet  nook 
The  strangest  flower  growing  there. 
Angels  must  have  it  in  their  care. 


44 


The  snow  flower  is  the  name  it  bears, 
But  a  blood  red  dress  it  always  wears. 
It  must  have  bathed  in  the  crimson  flood, 
As  an  emblem  of  that  precious  blood 
Which  has  been  shed  for  you  and  me 
By  Christ,  the  Lord,  on  Calvary. 


45 


The  Old  Quartz  Mill 

I  I P  in  the  grand  Sierra  Heights, 

Where  the  cedar,  fir,  and  pine, 
Like  giants  of  the  mighty  wood, 
Point  to  the  one  divine ; 

Where  the  glory  of  the  landscape 
Sends  through  the  soul  a  thrill, 
There  stands  a  relic  of  the  past, 
A  little  old  quartz  mill. 

Through  the  canyons  and  the  gorges 
The  wind  whispers  'mong  the  pines- 
It  may  be  a  sigh  of  sadness 
At  the  passing  of  the  mines. 

46 


As  it  views  the  mighty  caverns 
Where  the  hills  were  rent  in  twain, 
And  the  rocks  were  hewn  asunder 
To  get  out  the  golden  grain. 

Reposing  there  so  peacefully, 
It's  pond  'rous  wheel  forever  still, 
That  once  ground  out  the  precious  ore, 
Still  stands  the  old  quartz  mill. 


Dutch   Flat. 


47 


Love 

"  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these, 
ye  have  done  it  unto  me." — Matthew  25:  40. 

MEN  and  women  weary  and  worn, 

With  an  empty  life  and  a  vacant  chair, 
Let  a  true  purpose  in  you  be  born ; 
Take  some  little  one,  your  life  to  share, 
And  give  it  a  measure  of  pure  love, 
Give  to  the  children  this  love,  sweet  love.     . 

Go  out  in  the  slums  and  haunts  of  sin, 
And  gather  some  poor  wanderer  in, 
And  nestle  it  up  with  tender  care — 
One  of  God's  children,  you'll  cherish  there. 
Then  give  it  this  love,  Heaven-born  love, 
Give  to  the  children  this  love,  sweet  love. 

48 


Down  through  the  ages  the  seed  will  blow, 
And  multiply  as  the  mustards  grow; 
When  the  Recording  Angel  the  story's  told, 
You'll  find  you  have  treasure  more  precious  than 

gold. 

Yes,  treasure  of  love,  beautiful  love, 
Born  of  the  spirit  in  Heaven  above, 
Give  to  the  children  this  love,  sweet  love. 


49 


Communing  With  Nature 

I  WAS  lying  in  a  hammock,  one  day  in  early 

June, 
Communing  with  old  Nature,  with  her  my  heart 

in  tune; 
The  birds  were  singing  gaily  from   their   home 

amid  the  trees, 
And  peace  and  love  was  whispered  by  the  cool 

and  fragrant  breeze ; 
The  roses  in  royal  splendor  held  up  their  loyely 

heads, 
While  violets,  true  and  tender,  smiled  on  me 

from  their  beds, 
And  over  all  was  resting  such  a  peaceful  holy 

calm, 
And  the  perfume  from  the  flowers  sank  into  my 

heart  like  balm. 

so 


When  I  raise  my  eyes  above  me  to  the  blue 

arch  overhead, 
Then  gently  dropping  them,  gazed  on  the  green 

sward  which  we  tread, 
And  said,  "Kind  Nature,  tell  me,  for  I  ne'er  can 

understand, 
How  you  spread  out  all  these  beauties  with  such 

a  lavish  hand. ' ' 
Then  she  twined  her  arms  about  me,  as  though 

angels  did  me  kiss, 

And  in  gentle  mood  she  wooed  me  into  uncon 
scious  bliss. 

As  in  her  lap  I  rested,  in  such  loving,  kind  repose, 
I   saw  there,   bending  over  me,   a  handsome, 

queenly  rose. 
In  a  voice  like  rippling  music,  these  words  to  me 

she  said : 
"O  child  of  immortality,  this  banquet's  daily 

spread 
By  One  in  great  love  to  win  you — to    win  a 

world  from  sin — 

51 


And  help  you  thus  your  hearts  prepare  His 
courts  to  enter  in. 

But  in  your  heart,  while  yet  on  earth,  His  king 
dom  first  must  reign, 

Then  when  you  die,  it  is  rebirth  to  a  land  where 
there's  no  pain.  " 

Then  violets  joined  the  lilies  fair, 

And  sweet  hallelujahs  rent  the  air. 

All  nature  caught  the  sweet  refrain, 

"There'll  be  no  pain,  there'll  be  no  pain, 

For  all  is  joy,  all  is  love — all  is  love." 

An  echo  came  from  above,  "All  is  love." 

I  awoke ;  it  was  nothing  new  to  me, 

For  where'er  I  look,  whate'er  I  see, 

It  points  to  an  immortality. 

There's  not  a  leaf  or  tiny  flower, 

A  babbling  brook  or  an  April  shower, 

But  the  loving  hand  of  God  I  see ; 

In  all  His  works  He  smiles  on  me. 


52 


Christmas  Bells 

"  The  Christmas  bells,  how  jo3rfully  they  will  ri 


XV  /ILL  they  ring  out  all  the  sadness,  will  they 
W          ring  out  all  the  wrong, 
Will  they  ring  in  joy  and  gladness,  with  its  free 

and  happy  song? 
In  the  book  we  have  been  writing,  in  the  year 

which  has  gone  by, 
Have  we  blotted  much  its  pages,  have  we  put  our 

hopes  on  high? 
Have  we  tried  to  help  the  fallen,  have  we  cleansed 

ourselves  within? 
Have  we  pointed  souls  to  heaven,  tried  to  help 

them  from  their  sin? 
Do  you  t  hink  we've  made  much  progress  toward 

that  city  which  is  sure  ; 

53 


Where  the  flowers  bloom   immortal,   and  the 

waters  are  most  pure? 
As  we  are  going  on  to  glory,  and  we  think  that  it 

is  true, 
For  the  gates  ajar  are  standing,  do  you  think 

that  we'll  get  through? 
And  that  angels  there  will  meet  us,  and  give  us  a 

guiding  hand, 
And  the  Lord  himself  will  greet  us,  in  that  bright 

and  promised  land? 
Then  give  me  your  hand,   my  comrade,   and 

together  we  will  go ; 
We  will  tread  those  paths  of  brightness,  where 

the  fountains  ever  flow ; 
We  will  drink  of  living  water,  in  green  pastures 

we  will  lie, 
And  live,  my  friend,  forever,  for  the  righteous 

never  die. 
Then  let's  write  our  book  in  meekness,  fill  the 

pages  with  our  love, 

54 


In  the  New  Year  just  before  us,  trust  the  one 

that  rules  above ; 
At  times  we  may  be  faint-hearted,  and  grow 

weary  by  the  way, 
But  the  Lord  of  everlasting  glory  will  help  us 

on  through  endless  day. 


The  Origin  of  Flowers 

7Y  DREAM  I  will  tell  of  the  long  ago, 

When  no  flowers  it  seemed  bloomed  here 

below, 

Only  a  carpet  of  living  green, 
On  this  fair  earth  was  to  be  seen. 

In  Heaven  there  was  a  bugle  call, 

The  bright  angels  gathered  one  and  all ; 

The  Lord  of  Hosts  had  deputized 

These  seraphs  in  the  starry  skies 

To  some  good  plan  to  enter  in, 

The  hearts  of  all  the  world  to  win.  . 

An  angel,  with  a  harp  in  hand, 

Said,  "There's  much  good  in  all  the  land; 

But  they  use  too  much  selfishness, 

And  will  not  trust  God's  righteousness ; 

I  think  it  is  more  love  they  need, 

To  do  away  with  selfish  greed." 

56 


Another  with  a  happy  smile, 

Said,  "Could  we  not  their  hearts  beguile, 

Put  in  their  lives  to  cheer  their  hours 

Beauty  in  the  form  of  flowers? 

Each  one  to  be  a  smile  from  Heaven, 

A  loving  thought  which  God  had  given." 

"Flowers  the  Lord  would  breathe  upon; 
By  the  perfume  they  might  be  won. 
Yes,  let  us  send  an  angel  child 
To  fill  the  world  with  sweetest  smile, 
Delight  their  hearts  and  charm  their  sense 
With  living  forms  of  sweet  incense." 

These  words  caught  up  an  echo  then, 

They  loudly  sang  "Amen !  Amen !" 

And  tuned  their  harps  and  struck  their  lyres, 

The  welkin  rang  with  heavenly  fires, 

And  sweet  Hosannas  they  did  sing 

In  praises  to  their  heavenly  king. 


57 


The  Birth  of  the  Flowers 

EFORE  the  break  of  the  new  born  day, 

While  the  world  in  peaceful  slumber  lay, 
Barefoot,  tripping  through  the  woods  so  wild, 
There  came  a  beautiful  angel  child. 

A  halo  of  light  around  her  head, 
Illumined  the  path  on  which  she  tread ; 
Her  eyes  were  like  the  violets  blue, 
Lightly  she  stepped  through  the  morning  dew, 

When  her  happy  smile  and  heart  so  light, 
Turned  the  dew  drops  to  pearls  so  bright,        • 
That  they  sparkled  as  rich  jewels  rare, 
Then  bursting  in  bloom  were  flowers  fair. 

The  air  was  filled  with  childish  laughter, 
And  blossoms  sprang  up  fast  and  faster; 
Casting  a  fairy  magical  spell, 
She  painted  the  Poppies  and  Bluebell 

58 


With  tints  borrowed  from  the  azure  sky, 
Hues  of  the  rainbow  were  in  her  dye. 
Sweet  incense  then  came,  for  the  Lord  was  nigh, 
And  breathed  on  the  flowers  as  He  passed  by. 

Her  mission  over,  she  ascended 

To  her  home ;  bright  angels  attended 

In  a  chariot  of  heavenly  fire, 

Singing  songs  of  praise  that  angel  choir. 

Sweet  melody  floated  on  the  breeze, 
We  hear  it  yet  in  the  rustling  leaves ; 
The  birds  caught  up  the  strains  sublime, 
And  ever  since  they  have  sung  divine. 

Now  in  meadow  lands,  o'er  hill  and  dale, 
On  sunny  slopes  or  in  mossy  vale, 
Sweet  blossoms  spring  like  a  breath  of  love, 
To  win  the  world  to  a  home  above. 


59 


Precious  Truth 

possibilities  are  so  grand 
They  lie  round  us  on  every  hand ; 
Like  the  sand  on  the  great  seashore, 
We  never  could  exhaust  the  store. 

There  is  a  source,  a  living  spring, 
Which  we  can  tap  at  our  own  will, 
And  precious  truths  can  from  it  bring 
To  fondest  hopes  in  us  instill. 

As  up  the  rugged  steeps  we  climb 
We  may  gather  pearls  which  are  sublime, 
And  some  one  might  prove  a  brighter  gem 
Than  ere  graced  a  royal  diadem. 


60 


A  Noble  Purpose 

"""THIS  book  is  on  a  mission  bent, 

On  holy  purpose  is  intent, 
To  help  man  have  a  true  desire, 
For  all  that's  good  to  him  inspire; 
To  get  him  from  the  greed  of  pelf, 
So  he  can  express  his  higher  self. 

And  see  but  good  in  all  mankind, 
The  holy  spark  in  him  to  find, 
And  help  to  fan  it  into  blaze, 
By  acts  of  love  and  words  of  praise, 
And  thus  live  on  a  noble  plane, 
Then  life  would  not  be  lived  in  vain. 

If  to  this  we  were  all  resolved, 
The  mighty  problem  would  be  solved 
That's  burning  now  the  hearts  of  men, 
An  Eden  we  would  live  in  then; 
And  we  can  prove  this  by  the  Word 
That  love  is  mightier  than  the  sword. 

61 


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